


Reach Out and Touch Faith

by IdrisEleven



Series: Da Vinci's Ficlets [1]
Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6531034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisEleven/pseuds/IdrisEleven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to a Tumblr prompt--In an alternative to canon, after Riario demands Leonardo come to Rome in S1 E2, he does not take Leonardo's refusal passively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reach Out and Touch Faith

**Author's Note:**

> A response to this photo prompt--http://romibsauce.tumblr.com/post/142459310945/one-more-weekend-assignment-create-a-story-using

“I am a reasonable man, da Vinci.” That voice that scraped against his ears, a deliberate whisper, that both irritated and soothed. It had always been disconcerting. It was worse now that he was unable to escape it.

“The Holy Father has need of your talents, and it is unchristian of you to deny this request. It is not for him personally, of course, but for the greater glory of the Holy Catholic Church.”  

So he was in Rome, probably. That made sense. The cloth bag over his head, the burly men who pinned his arms behind his back, the closed carriage had brought him here, to this prison, where his jailer was the serpent he had first met back in Florence: Lord Girolamo Riario, captain general of the pope’s military.

It had been a long journey, and he’d been kept blindfolded, although he supposed he should be grateful they had removed the sack once he was inside the carriage. They’d kept his arms bound, though, freeing him only once he was inside this cell. They had pushed him in, knocking him off balance, and he fell hard without the use of his hands to break the fall. The soldiers (for they certainly had to be soldiers) had laughed at his ungainliness, and only then used a blade to slice the ropes from his wrists. 

The first thing he did then was to push the blindfold off. It had been torture, really, to be unable to see anything. It felt like he had been dreaming for the better part of three days. 

Once the cloth was off, however, he didn’t have much more information. This cell was part of a large room, but the only light came from a large cross incised into the outer wall. He could see the marble inlaid floor, and a set of high-backed, ornate arm chairs, appropriate for distinguished guest. Not an ordinary prison then. 

The voice kept going, insinuating itself inside his skull. It was very effective, pitched precisely so that he could not ignore it. Somehow, it crept its way inside, sibilant and invasive. “Florence is, of course, a heretical city, godless and wanton. You are better off away from there, for the benefit of your eternal soul.” 

Leo knew that voice, but could not see the face. The room was so damnably dark. Riario seemed to be seated; the voice came from close by, but due to the idiosyncratic lighting, all Leo could see were his hands. At the moment, the damnable count was cutting an orange, which looked like a small piece of heaven. He’d been barely fed and indifferently watered on the ride to Rome, and the golden orange wept its juices. Involuntarily, he groaned, but the severe dehydration made it come out a croak. 

Calmly, unhurriedly, Riario continued to slice the fruit, displaying the deadly sharpness of the blade. Finally—finally!—he set down the segments on a metal plate, and with a push of his booted foot, slid the whole under the barred door. Leo tried not to look desperate as he grabbed the food, the first he had eaten under his own command in days. His hunger was so overwhelming, that he didn’t notice the words that the count was intoning. 

“In nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus santi.”  

There was no missing the smell of incense emanating from the small censor that the count waved, directing the sickly sweet smoke into his cell.  

“Do forgive me, da Vinci. It was a precaution. We have received reports that Florentines generally, and you in particular, may be inhabited by demons. We must banish the Evil One before we can bring you to the One True Faith. I will leave you this token, in the hopes that it will speed your reconciliation to the Holy Father’s will.”  

The filigreed cross flashed in the limited light, and without consciously willing it, Leo reached to take the relic from the count’s own hand.


End file.
